In the Realms of Glory
by Chickadee Janette
Summary: Draco Malfoy: True Blue Slytherin. But is he really? You'd be surprised how much change can come to this ambitious boy when he hears a few words from a small, tattered boy in a robe shop.
1. Default Chapter

**A/n: **Author's notes take up too much space. skip this.  
  
**Credits to: **Brandy, who I am collaberating with. This is a test run, before I post our story on Schnoogle.com!   
  
**Disclaimer: **All Harry Potter characters, places, and names belong to Ms. Rowling, and various publishers including, but not limited to, Scholastic Books and Bloomsbury Publishing. No copywrite or ownership is implied, nor intended.**  
**

  
IN the REALMS of GLORY  
  
PROLOGUE  


  
"Mr. Malfoy?" The nurse called into the hospital waiting room to the dark-haired, pale-faced man sitting on the chair reading a book whose title was faded from use. He looked up from his reading. "congratulations, you have a son."  
  
He did not show any expression, as if it were news he had heard a thousand times before. Lucius just looked at the nurse, and said "Let me see him."  
  
He stepped into the hospital bedroom, slowly, relaxed. He looked to the bed, where his wife was sitting with a sweaty forehead, cradling her baby boy, staring into his deep eyes.   
  
"Isn't he beautiful, Lucius?"   
  
Moving his hand upon the cloth that was covering the head of the small infant, he moved it so he could look at the proud, malfoy face, and the traditional black malfoy hair.  
  
Silver eyes, just as planned -- the color of power. Perfect.   
  
But what was this?  
  
Thin, silvery blonde hair covered the head of the smiling child, whose bright, carefree eyes enraged Lucius.   
  
Didn't he know what his purpose was? Why was he so HAPPY?!   
  
Lucius scowled at the disgusting, cheerful, innocent face of his. _I'll wipe that horrible grin right off of your face boy._   
  
"Let me hold him, Narcissa." Lucius commanded. She didn't want to give up her newborn baby, though, and continued to cuddle him in her arms. Narcissa knew very well what Lucius could do to her, and what she could do to her baby. She ignored him.  
  
"Let me hold him."  
  
"Oh, can't it wait? This is the first time I've ever held him, my sweet, sweet, boy."  
  
Lucius gripped his wand. _Let me hold him, _he commanded fiercely, mentally.  
  
She willingly gave him up to her husband, but as soon as her hand parted with the tiny bundle, she snapped back violently into her own mind.   
  
"No, Lucius, give him back!" She pleaded. "You can't!" Narcissa had been dreading this moment for ages. They had discussed it in his study, and she had agreed to it, but she never had _wanted_ him to. "Lucius, please - " But he ignored her, and the pale-blone woman turned to cry into her pillow.  
  
Lucius took out his Buck-thorn wand. Whispering an incantation, he placed a small, circular ward on the hospital floor.   
  
"J'appelle à vous, père de l'obscurité, la grande Serpent-réprimandée." he hissed, and pointed the wand at Draco's heart. "Utilisez vos poweress puissants sur moi de sorte que Draco et moi puissions devenir un dans mon âme."  
  
His wand glowed a hazy greenish-blue, and the light began to travel up Lucius' arm. He could feel the energy flowing into his blood veins. The connection was forming between the two souls, he could sense it. Then, suddenly, without warning, was as if a sword was being pushed into his heart, It was so sudden, his whole chest jolted as the evil flowed into his blackened soul.   
  
He knew what he had to do. At that moment, he rammed the wand through the chest of his son. It is working. The wand slid straight through Draco's heart like a knife through butter. the infant's eyes widened. His breathing was shaky. His eyes then began to droop from shock, and a bright, eerie light came from where the wand had been shoved into his chest.   
  
"Laissez-moi avoir sa will, je la ferai voir attendre et. Je prendrai sa tallent, m'envoie s'il vous plaît ceci! Draco, élasticité à moi la votre vie, esprit, et âme!" Lucius drew the wand out of his unconcious son's chest   
**   
**The hole from where Lucius' wand had been drawn out of sealed itself with a strange, blinding, darkness. It was so bright, he could hardly tell that his son was in his arms, except for the fact that he could feel him in his hands   
  
There was a chilling, freezing cold aura inside the invisible ward.   
  
The dark energy was flowing through his body, into his very blood. _It's working, _he thought to himself, _It worked,_ _I did it!   
  
_Lucius's heart was pounding from the amount of magic it took to perform the ancient spell, the spell invented by Salazar Slytherin himself. It was diminishing quickly, but Lucius noticed his heavy breathing, pounding heart, the small beads of sweat on his face. The spell had taken nearly all of his strength. Lucius had to excert himself in order to concentrate hard enough to take down the tiny ward.   
  
Narcissa watches in tears, as her husband materialized in front of her eyes and the ward disappeared.   
  
Her eyes began to tear, her beloved, treasured son, her poor baby boy taken away from him before he could even take a hundred breaths, excerted to the point that he passed out before he could hold up his head. Who was the man who held her bundle of joy, and turned it into a package of power and malice? It couldn't be Lucius. Yet, it was. The man she loved and cherished had became her worst enemy in a matter of seconds.  
  
"How could you do this to me?" she pleaded desperately to the tall, dark man who stood in front of her. "Did it have to be now? This is worse than dieing, Lucius! To have your son damned for life as soon as you are able to hold him, it's more than I can bear..." her eyes teared, and her face was flush.   
  
"It had to be done. There was no other way, you must understand." Lucius hissed harshly, just staring coldly into the woman's red, puffy eyes.   
  
"But, Lucius, he'll _die._ He means _everything _to me!" Narcissa began to cry wet rivers of tears. She buried her face in her hands, the hurt she felt in her heart was more than any mother could bear. Her first, her only son, filled with malice and hate from the moment he was born, doomed to die the first time he encountered the world and all of it's wonders.   
  
"Only a moment sooner than he would have." He said harshly.  
  
***  



	2. 

**CHAPTER ONE: The Robe Shop  
  
**

Draco looked up at his father, his hero, as the walked down the cobblestone alley. They were gathering their school supplies for his first year at school. He was tagging along by his father's heels, with a bit of effort to keep up with Lucius's long strides.   
  
"Hurry up, Draco, you don't want to get lost." His father said, firmly and softly at the same time.   
  
They were walking down Diagon Alley, buying school supplies. Draco wasn't looking forward to Hogwarts, he knew most of the material already, with his tutors and all. He wondered again to himself if Dumbledore would let him skip to second or third year and not bother with the first.  
  
"Yes, Father." He replied obediently. Draco didn't know why, but he had always done what his father told him to. It's not like there isn't anything wrong with it, though, because obedience is one of the most important qualities to have if you want to be successful. He had told him so. It had been proven to him, even, he recalled. Punishment always seems to find the disobedient.  
  
_He was practicing Quidditch on his new broomstick that his father had gotten for him. Draco was ecstatic when he saw the sleek figured broom Father had brought home for him._  
  
_"Draco," he had said, "You'd better a perfect practice session with your Coach today. Play your hardest. Don't slack off," Lucius commanded harshly, "there is no reason for you to be lagging with this new broom, you are much better than that."   
  
"Yes, of course. I won't make _any _mistakes today, not even on my feints." Draco replied confidently.  
  
When he was out on their private pitch, Draco was zooming around, looking for the snitch while trying to dodge the two bludgers at once. It had been easy when he did the same drill that morning, so Draco did the same thing he did then. He sped towards one end of the pitch, with the heavy, black balls zooming towards him. He glanced at them both, then sped upwards towards the sky. But this time, Lucius demanded that the bludgers, unbeknownced to Draco, be magically controlled by his Coach. The two, black balls followed him up into the sky, and whizzed around him in circles and both came crashing into his ribcage when he stopped puzzled.   
  
_What the...? _He had never heard of bludgers working _together _to knock a player off of a broom. It was insane!  
  
Draco had suffered three broken ribs, and a sprained wrist from the 70 foot fall.  
  
_I wasn't alert enough, _he remembered thinking to himself, _I didn't do my best. I let my father down. _He looked down at his flawless new broom, wondering to himself if he really diserved it.  
  
Draco wasn't aware why the bludgers had both attacked him at once, just that he had been hesitant up in the air. The worst possible habbit you can have in Quidditch is to be hesitant.  
  
Draco's punishment was to heal himself with his own charms. He had successfully healed himself after an hour of trial-and-error.  
  
_"Did you hear me, son?"  
  
Draco snapped out of his trance. "I'm sorry, Father, what were you saying?"  
  
Lucius looked down at his son. He hated it when he didn't listen to him. "Go get your robes. Jesus, boy - sometimes I wonder if you're even in the same _room _as me. Let alone listening to me. Make sure you get the better-quality fabric, you don't want to disgrace our family name, do you?"   
  
"No, Father. Of course not."  
  
"I will be in Flourish's if you need me." Lucius said without expression. Then he flashed a look that clearly said, 'and you'd better not.'  
  
Draco walked into Madam Malkin's with his chin high, a smile upon his face, oblivious from the odd looks from people that a young-looking boy would be walking about alone in a busy Alley. But making his father happy made Draco happy too, so he didn't take any notice.  
  
He walked into the small shop with ringing bells sounding as he entered.   
  
"I would like four sets of Hogwarts School uniform robes." He recited as Miss Malkin sized up another coustomer.  
  
"That would be - your finest black fabrics, miss." He said, as she turned around to open a cabinet.   
  
"Yes, dear, step this way." A squat witch said to him as she led him by the wrist over to a stool. He stood upon it with perfect posture.   
  
As a long, velvety-soft, and strangely light-weight peice of fabric was being draped over his head, another frightened-looking boy entered. The first thing he noted, was that he was alone, by himself, just like he was. He had large nerdy-looking glasses, and baggy oversized muggle clothing that might be big enough to pass for robes if he cut it the right way. Draco wondered where his parents were - if they had sent him off on his own like his own. Perhaps he had a father like his. He had a dark mess of black hair, almost identical in colour as that of Lucius's. The tense little boy was led to stand next to Draco, and was having black robes being fit for him just as Draco was.  
  
"Hello," Draco drawled cheerfully. "Hogwarts too?"  
  
"Mmhm," the boy replied. He was looking around the room, watching Madam Malkin take his measurements with fascination, almost as if it were his first time in Diagon.  
  
Draco started to talk to the boy, and he made it a point to find out if the boy was pureblood, like him, or one of the other sort, if you knew what he meant. It was extreemy difficult, seeing that he hardly seemed able to talk at all, the boy was so quiet.  
  
"My father's up the street buying my books," Draco stated. Then he added, "And my mother's up the street looking at wands," even though it wasn't really true, or logical at that. Somebody else can't really pick out a wand for you, not unless you're there. Besides, he had his wand already, and was quite fond of the buckthorn-wooden wand. "Then I'm going to take them off and look at racing brooms. Maybe I can even get Father to buy me one, and I'll charm it into the school somehow." Draco could usually get whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted it - most of the time. It was unusual gifts like those, just like like bribery and lieing, that got him what he wanted.  
  
_It was spring-time. Little Draco had been sitting in the dining room practicing transfiguration and hexes for almost an hour. He was itching to get outside. The flies he had created from transfigured glass beads were dropping all over as he hit them with full-body bind hexes.   
  
"_Petrificus Totalus!"_ he said, waving his wand. Another tiny fly fell from the air, paralyzed. Fly after miniscule fly; they were dropping like crazy.   
  
"Wonderful work, Draco." Lucius had complemented him as he stepped into the room. "Now turn this paperclip into a Mantis, and perform the Imperious Curse upon it.  
  
"Okay, Father." Draco had said, magically transporting the clip from his father's hand to the table infront of him.  
  
Draco recited the incantation. The immediate change was a complete success. A big juicy Praying Mantis emerged from the silver clip. It began to hiss.  
  
Draco focused his mind, he remembered the steps involved in performing the Imperious curse: Focus all of your mind on the person, animal or object. Reflect upon it with hate. _Draco thought about the mantis, with it's glaring, beady red eyes, and those strange, abnormally bent claws. Disgusting little beast! he thought to himself. _Think of one experience it had been through. _He reflected upon the smooth transfigured change - from metal clip, to metallic head, abdomen, and thorax, to smooth green insect. _Recite the incantation.  
  
Draco opened his eyes, a bright burning excitement shining inside of his slate-grey eyes as the surge of dark energy flowed from his mind to his wand.  
  
"IMPERIO!" He shouted.  
  
Concentrate. '_Stand up._' Draco commanded mentally. The insect obeyed. It stood on six legs. Then, Draco made it Fly in a figure-eight around the drawing room with it's tiny insect wings. Next, letting the bug use a tooth-pick for a sword, forced it into an excruciating fencing battle with an erected quill in an ink bottle.  
  
"Nice work, Son. Extra points for creativity" Lucius praised. Draco was beaming. "Now, practice the curse on two insects at the same time."  
  
"_Two, _father? I am not sure if I am ready," Draco put on a saddened look.  
  
"You will practice two. If you want to be successful in the art of Curse - Casting, you must have total control over your powress and mental abilities."  
  
"I may need to prepare if i wish to perform the curses properly, Father." then added, "But if you let me play Quidditch with the other children, I'm sure that I will try my hardest as soon as I finish."  
  
Draco new just well that Lucius was totally against interaction with other young wizards.   
  
"No, Draco," he said firmly, giving little Draco a harsh staring look.  
  
"But, father, I've been practicing for _hours_. I wish I could be outside in the - "  
  
"I said no! Now practice your curses and maybe I'll let you out another day."  
  
"Oh, Father, why not?"  
  
"No means no. Now practice!"  
  
"But - "  
  
"NO!"  
  
Draco put on his face the best sad-puppy-face that he could, and said, "Oh, please, Father! I'll tell you what. If you let me go outside, then I will practice _twice_ as hard on _everything!_ Even my Quidditch skills!"  
  
Lucius soften when he heard his six-year-old son use bribery for the first time, but you wouldn't be able to tell if you looked at his face. His eyes remained cold and harsh, just as always.  
  
"Well, okay then. Make sure you keep those other rouges in line. I don't want you coming home all black-and-blue like rowdy muggle children."  
  
"Thank you, Father, thank you!" And he hurried off to the gardens where his mother was tending._  
  
***  
  
Draco, remembering the innocent Quidditch sessions from when he was a little boy, wondered innocently, "Play Quidditch at all?"  
  
"No," the boy said blankly. _He probably _is_ a mudblood then!_ Draco thought proudly to himself._  
_  
"I do," Draco said. When the shaggy boy didn't say anything, he continued. "My father says it's a crime if I'm not picked for my house, and I must say that I agree. I play quite often." He was going to ask the other boy if he could do any feints on a broomstick yet, then decided against it.  
  
"Do you know what house you'll be in yet?"  
  
"No," the boy said again. _ This kid sure is boring, I feel sorry for his parents_, Draco thought.  
  
"Well, I guess no one_ really_ knows until they get there, do they? But I'm just about positive I'll be in Slytherin. All of my family line has been, it's almost like tradition. Imagine being in Hufflepuff! Father'd be so upset; I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"  
  
"Hmm.." the other boy said blankly.  
  
Draco looked around the room, waiting for something to happen. Suddenly, he got a glance at a humongous wild-looking man, with an unruly mass of hair, a tangled beard, donned in a buck-skin leather outfit. He was waving clumsily at them with two ice-cream cones heald with a gigantic hand the size of a tricycle wheel. He was about as tall as a one-story building, and had to duck down in order to look through the windows.  
  
"My word, Look at that man!"  
  
"That's Hagrid." The boy said, strangely, he sounded almost proud of the fact that he knew a big burly freak of a man. "He works at Hogwarts."  
  
"Hey, I've heard of him! He's a sort of " Draco paused - oh - what's the word? "servant, isn't he?"   
  
"Gamekeeper."  
  
"Yes, exactly! I heard he's almost a sort of _savage _- lives in a shabby little hut on the school grounds and every now and then he gets _drunk_, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed. Funny almost, huh?" Draco tried to hide a snicker.  
  
"_I _think he's _brilliant._" _Poor kid, _Draco thought. _He seems a bit hurt. Someone's been dangling on the wrong end of the chain a little too long - That giant, Brilliant? Crazy talk!_  
  
"Do you?" Then a bizzare thought flashed across his mind. "Why, is he with you?" He blurted out. "Where're you parents?"  
  
"Dead." Draco partially suspected that his father was partially responsible for that. He may only be 11 years old, but he _did _know where they got their family fortune from.  
  
"Oh… Sorry." For some unexplainable reason, Draco actually_ did _feel sorry for him, even though it didn't show in the least amount. There was a bit of a gap between his emotions and his face, unlike most people where it's one big happy continental land-bridge, when they could hardly even hide it - like glass. "but, uh - they _were_ our kind, weren't they?"   
  
"They were a witch and a wizard, if that's what you mean."   
  
_Than he wasn't._ Draco seemed a bit disapointed. He had never met a mudblood before. His father made sure of that. He said that he couldn't risk him being around filthy muggle-blooded people since they were less magic than he was, with his pure blood and all.  
  
"I just don't think that they should let the other sort in, do you?"   
  
The boy didn't respond.  
  
"They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways… Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter! Imagine!" Draco had always known he was a wizard. It was just something he had grown up knowing. It had been one of the very first things he had known, maybe even before he could talk…  
  
_Baby Draco awakened in the empty room. He stretched his little miniature hands, and looked around. He could hardly lift his head, so he rolled over on his side and tilted a bit to get a view of the vast rooms, with its high, decorative ceilings. All he could recall watching was a large painting of the Malfoy family crest. The tiny baby looked into the intricate designs of the border, the deep depths of the snake's eye, straining his not-yet-mature eyes to look at the fancy, Calligraphied "M" on the banner.  
  
Soon, Mother entered the room. She picked him up, said something softly to him, he couldn't quite remember what, though. She gently caressed his hair, as if made of tiny, miniscule diamonds, gazing deeply at his face, into his iron-greyb eyes. He remembered feeling a small, crystal-like teardrop on his soft, pale cheek. He reached up with his tiny, short hands, and wiped her eye as she cradled him in her arms.  
  
"Oh, Draco - I wish you weren't cursed with your gift of magic; then I could take you away to the other world, where you would be safe. Curse this Malfoy Blood!!!"_  
  
"I think they should keep it to the really old wizarding families - like mine. What's your surname, anyways?"  
  
The boy paused. It looked as if he didn't want to tell him his name, but then decided against it. _Well, it'd be nice, seeing that I didn't say a whole sentance this whole time, _he thought. "I'm Potter, Harry Potter."  
  
No way! Harry Potter? Did he say Harry Potter?  
  
"Did you say Harry Potter?"  
  
Swift.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Harry Potter? Really? Well, How do you do, Potter?" Malfoy bowed his head a little bit to show courtesy as he had been taught, while his arms were being forced to be held awkardly straight out as Madam Malkin measured up another Hogwarts robe.   
  
"My father's told me TONS about you. You're a legend, in every book! Bloody thought _you _died a long time ago."  
  
"What do you mean, a legend?"  
  
"Why, yes of course! Don't you _know?"  
  
_"Know what? Oh! You mean about Volde - " Harry was cut off by just about the entire store, hissing loudly to shush him up. Draco didn't look offended, though; he just signaled to keep talking. "Well, I never knew it was that interesting. More like - something that someone made up that just happens to be true..."  
  
"Really now? Why, everyone knows who _you_ are! Most people think you some kind of a hero or something. Even my father talks of you on occasion, even though...."  
  
"That's you done dearie." Madam Malkin interrupted rudely.  
  
Draco glared at her for interrupting, then hopped down lightly from the stool as bustling house-elves scattered out of the way.  
  
Draco looked around suddenly, and just then realized that there was a large family entering the robe shop, all with bright red hair and tons of freckles. They seemed a bit raggedy, and quite envious of Draco's fine new robes. He then recognized them as the Weasley family, who disgraced the name of Purebloods with their load of children, and their twisted mudblood-loving morals. Beats him how they afford brand new robes, they probably just have more and more kids so that if they get fat, they can eat them for a snack sometime, since they _couldn't _afford a _proper_ meal.  
  
"You too, dear." Madam Malkin said signaling to Harry that he was finished also.  
  
Draco put his new robes in a small magical bag that could hold anything of any size, and still fit snuggly in your pocket, then started to swing it around his left index finger.  
  
"Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts then." Draco said, it was nice having someone to talk to, rather than just thinking silently to yourself. "How much, Madam?"   
  
"Thirty-Three Galleons," the clerk said lazily.  
  
Draco reached into his magical bag and grabbed out quite a few large gold coins. He couted out thirty-one large gold ones, and a two paper-covered rolls of smaller, silver coins. He handed the pile to the clerk.  
  
"Thank you for your business." she quoted, quite monotonus, as she shoved the money into two of three large potato sacks filled with gold and silver.  
  
Harry thought that with the all gold that the boy, - what was his name again? - Malfoy, had just handed to the clerk, he could melt it down, and turn it into hundreds gold pendants, sell them and become rich. He wondered why wizards didn't just do that instead of bothering to earn the money themselves.  
  
Harry paid his costs to the salesclerk and headed out the door. Hagrid was there, waiting for him.   
  
"Hi, Harry." Hagrid said, handing him his ice-cream (Chocolate Raspberry with nuts). "What's up?"  
  
"Not much," Harry said, even though his mind was buzzing with thought about the pale-faced boy he had just met. He just sat licking his ice-cream, lost in thought. Him? A legend? He never imagined that all of this about Voldemort was this big. He never even imagined that he was - legendary. It just wasn't right. Harr was the geek who sat in the back of the classroom, pretending to be tiny, and the dork who was picked on at recess. There was _absolutely no way _that he, of all people, could be famous.   
  
Harry didn't know why, but he didn't say anything about the boy he had just met, or their conversation.  
  
***  
  
What was left of Draco's "school-free" days (aside from his private tutoring) came and went as fast as the first snow melts on your nose. He didn't have very many supplies to buy, and he was unsuccessful at his attempt to get a new racing broom. It was disappointing, but you couldn't ever expect too much from his Father.  
  
One night at dinner, Draco decided to ask Lucius about the boy he had met in the Robe shop. Until then, he had kept silent about meeting Harry Potter. After all, Lucius never was happy when you brought up that name.   
  
"Father, I was just wondering," Draco said, setting his steak knife and fork aside. He was struggling to find the right words, so that he wouldn't cause his Father to get in one of those moods again. He shuddered at the thought.  
  
"Yes, Draco?" Lucius said, as if tempting him to say something he knew Draco shouldn't.  
  
"Well, by any chance, and i know this may sound silly, but - Harry Potter - he went to Hogwarts already, didn't he?"  
  
Whatever Lucius was expecting, this had him blown away. Harry Potter? Hogwarts already? The thought astounded him!! How foolish to think something like that. Potter, a full-fledged wizard? Proposterous! Why in the world would Draco think something like that? Harry Potter was still a boy, just like he was!!   
  
Draco could tell that he had shocked his father, his granite-grey eyes were stone cold, and it looked as if he triggered some sort of furious, enraged, curiosity.  
  
Lucius deep breathed to calm himself, then forced a smile. "No, of course not, Draco. When Potter," Lucius paused, "stopped the Dark Lord from gaining power, he was only a child. An infant. That is what makes it so unheard of." His voice seemed tense to Draco. Unwavering, yet still somehow a bit shakey.   
  
Draco knew better than to ask how Harry Potter stopped the Dark Lord. He didn't have to. He may not have learned how the "famous and great Harry Potter" defeated Voldemort, but he learn enough in his years not to ask about it.  
  
"Draco, meet me in the drawing room tonight." Lucius commanded his son. "I want to have a - discussion with you before term starts."   
  
"Yes, father." Draco drawled in a small, silent sort of way as he picked up his fork again, even though he suddenly wasn't all that hungry anymore.  
  
***   
  
Draco nervously walked through the end-less hallways of Malfoy Manor. He was headed down to the study. He descended down multiple flights of stairs, then through halfway of the hall, turn the first right, then left, then right is turned. Then he walked down another set of rikety steps to a large, elaborately carved mahogany door complete with the Malfoy crest embedded in the heart of the wood. Draco knocked three times, and at no answer, entered.  
  
Although never actually been to Lucius Malfoy's private study, Draco knew that it was not a pleasant place he wanted to be in. Late at night, he could hear screams echoing across the entire mansion, coming from that small, underground room.  
  
For a moment, pausing at the door, Draco almost ran back up the stairs, closing and locking the room forever. But he knew that would not happen. He would end up coming into the study either way, whether it be by the will of his own mind, or the force of another.  
  
_Oh please,_ Draco hoped silently to himself. _Oh please make him just want to have a puberty talk or something._  
  
But he knew it was not meant to be.  
  
He entered the study slowly, always cautiously. His father might be hiding in any nook or cranny in these walls. No one, not even himself, his own son, knew how his father's mind worked.  
  
"Tomorrow is when you leave for school, is that correct, Draco?" A hissing voice moved itself from the shadows, as though it was the shadows talking themselves.  
  
But Draco knew, he would not be as afraid... if it were the shadows talking. He kept his silence.  
  
"In my private study, boy," the shadows quivered slightly, revealing a dark looking Lucius Malfoy, who scolded Draco in a harsh whisper. "When I ask a question, it is mandatory that you give an answer!"  
  
Draco tried to back up, slowly, as not to alarm his father he was doing so, but the wall almost immediately blocked his path. Where there used to be a door....there was now...a wall.  
  
And where Lucius Malfoy had been standing before was now empty of one less person.  
  
"Do you not see, Draco? You cannot escape here unless in my mind it is to be." Said the hissing voice again, muffled, as though something was blocking it's way from getting its full force to Draco.  
  
And it was coming from behind him.  
  
"T-there is a wall behind me!" Draco tried to say as though he knew for a fact, but it came out as a pathetic stutter.  
  
"Ahh...yes....there is a wall behind you. But that is none of your concern. At least you aren't a bumbling, ignorant fool. Atleast you take notice of that which surrounds you."  
  
  
Draco spun around quickly, only to see that Lucius Malfoy was not up against the wall. There was a note of panic in his voice once he spun around and looked at his Father's eyes, only to see that crazed, devilish glint that resided inside of them.  
  
"What's going on here? Why did you ask me to come here?"  
  
Lucius Malfoy's once more restored voice boomed from behind Draco.  
  
"Because you are a disgrace!"  
  
Draco stared at his father, than backed slowly torwards the bookshelves, filled with weapons of torture.  
  
"A disgrace, father?"  
  
Lucius Malfoy's eyes flashed with an air of icey fire as he too, stepped forward as Draco stepped back.  
  
"Aha....so you did not know. You are destined for greatness, Draco. You were, ever since you were a child. You have always had a place in greatness, boy. And it is _your _job not to make a fool of yourself, like Serverus Snape, and Pettigrew. It is your _duty_, to exceed your magical limits, just like any Deatheater is expected to..."  
  
The words Lucius spoke to Draco was just about as confusing as they would be if he had spoken in Zhuahilli. He just stared at his father, confused, then stepped to the side wall, to the left of Lucius. Maybe if he moved fast enough, what was about to come, would not.  
  
"A death eater?"  
  
Lucius did not nod, but moved his finger up to his hair and flicked it, as a meaning of yes.  
  
"You, up, in front of your mother,just broke one of the rules of a death eater. Not to mentioned sounded like a complete and total idiot! Harry Potter - a grown wizard? You are disgusting!"  
  
Draco slowly moved his feet so that he was once again moving, slowly, sidewards, as though almost circling around Lucius with a judgemental air.  
  
"I'm....I'm sorry....I didn't know..."  
  
But Lucius, showing the distinct, exact qualities of why he would become a snake for his animagi, whirled around, and his hand was tight around Draco's neck. One hand was enough, for it was either that Lucius's hands were unusually large, or Draco's neck was unusually small, but one hand was definately enough.  
  
Lucius lifted Draco off the ground with the hand around his neck, the nails of the one hand digging deep into the veins in the back of Draco's neck. The small drips of blood could be felt by both, streaming down Draco's back, and staining Lucius's knuckles.  
  
"Now strength, boy, strength is another quiality you must have to become one of the more well-off deatheaters. You must have strength.  
  
"Not only strength such as this, but strength in pain!" Lucius cried, throwing Draco down upon the stone floor with an angry force. "You must be strong while taking torture, and pain!"  
  
Lucius whipped out his wand from somewhere deep inside his flowing black robes, and held it out, ready to strike, but what he did not expect was for Draco to pull out his wand from his robes also.  
  
"Aha." Lucius's voice came out in a low, hollow growl as he dropped his son, then watched him struggle up on his two legs, dizzy with blood loss.   
  
  
"So now you wish to duel me with what measley spells you can muster. With all the competitions you have won, this should be interesting. Test your mettle, boy."  
  
Draco took the form of an rival in duel, the chinise fighting position. While as Lucius, took the usual Japanise.  
  
Neither of them did bother to bow.  
  
"Ale!'" Lucius shouted, signalling, "Lets go!"  
  
Draco searched his mind for spells he knew, which was not alot. During the illegal wizard duels, he had usually been up against opponents of his own age...with the same knowlege as he. But what little spells he knew....could be of some use to him now.  
  
"Imperio!" He heard Lucius shout from the other side of the room.  
  
"Baretta!" Draco shouted back, quickly blocking the curse that was shot.  
  
Lucius's eyes crinkled into a dissaproving face.  
  
"You block me? Crucio!"  
  
Draco, not knowing the blocking spell for such a curse, quickly jumped from the range of the crucio.  
  
"Stupefy!" He aimed for Lucius.  
  
"Gamereen!" Lucius cried, and with a small flash of blue light, the curse bounced off course, and crashed into one of the many book shelves to the side of them.  
  
"You put up an interesting fight, Dragon of Bad Faith, but I have had enough." Lucius whispered, but knew that Draco could hear him.  
  
"Blackstreak!" He shouted, and Draco's knees began to feel weak.   
  
"Serpensora!"  
  
Serpensora? Draco thought grogily, as his mind's thoughts bubbled together and he slowly felt himself dizzy and losing consciencness. Whats a serpensora?  
  
Lucius Malfoy's voice could be heard over a violent hissing to one side of Draco.  
  
"The number four rule of the Death Eaters, Draco. Never mention Harry Potter in front of a Death Eater!"  
  
Than Draco could feel a sharp pain in the veins of his arm, and the hissing coninued, as he slowly lost consciness into the world of black.  
  
"Irwinnetta." Lucius Malfoy's cold voice called the serpant back, as he walked over and surveyed the now sweating Draco.  
  
"Pain is learning." Lucius growled, picking Draco up from the floor and bringing him upstairs to his large, third story bedroom. Upon putting Draco into his bed, he piled quilts upon him, and murmered, "Tapestria."  
  
His footsteps echoed as he started to walk out, but stopped when he heard a voice behind him.  
  
"Harry Potter.....parsletongue....." Draco's voice could be heard mumbling as he tossed and turned. Lucius ran to Draco's side once again.  
  
"What about Harry Potter?" He whispered urgently. "What about Harry Potter being a parsletongue?"  
  
There was no answer.  
  
"Draco! Tell me, Draco! You must answer me!"  
  
There was a silent knock on the door as Lucius shook Draco for answers.  
  
"Lucius?" It was Narcissa's quiet voice. "The Minister of Magic is here to see you."  
  
Lucius let out a cry of frustration as he stood up once again.  
  
"Send him in."  
  
  
Lucius stared at Draco, as though almost begging him to mumble the answer to his question. He was just about to shake his son once more for his information, but before he could, the minister of magic knocked upon the door. The look of frustration on Lucius's face quickly turned to one of concern.  
  
"Yes?" He asked, making his voice seem tired, and worried.  
  
Cornelius Fudge eased his way into Draco's room, before looking upon Lucius with a look of sympathy.  
  
"I am....sorry to disturb you at this time. But I have come to inform you that the Sorcerers Stone has been emptied from the vault in which it used to be."  
  
Lucius quickly wiped off the fake look of concern which had been there just a moment before, and changed it to a look of pure fury.  
  
"Why did someone not get there before the blasted Albus Dumbledore?!"  
  
Fudge clearly looked as though he wanted to leave at that moment.  
  
"Well....there was a break in at Gringotts moments after it was emptied....Quirril claimed he was there exactly when you told him to go."  
  
Lucius stepped forward torward the quivering Cornelius Fudge.  
  
"That can not be, since I had the time exactly right."  
  
Cornelius gave an ordinary nod, as he walked, with cautious looks to Lucius of course, to the bed in which Draco inhabited.  
  
"This is your son?"  
  
Lucius came up and stood next to him, looming three feet above the Minister.  
  
"Yes. He starts school tomorrow."  
  
"How can that be since obviously he is ill?"  
  
Lucius stepped forward and looked down onto his son.  
  
"He was bitten by a poisonous snake. But he will be well enough by tomarrow." There was an evil glint in his eye as he muttered under his breath, "I'll make sure of it."  
  
Cornelius Fudge looked taken-aback by this sudden rush of energy in Lucius's eyes.  
  
"You were telling the other Death Eaters.....that his powers are many?"  
  
Lucius flicked his hair as a symbol of yes.  
  
"He is a potential animagi. His agility startles me, and his brilliance and capability of spells is that of a wizard much beyond his years. His miniscule veela inheritence seems to developing him quite nicely, and he will be powerful. And also, I am sensing, may I not be sure as such, a small hint of a diviner in him. His powers will work nicely beside mine."  
  
Cornelius nodded thoughtfully, whiles staring at Draco.  
  
"Perhaps a teen death eater?"  
  
Lucius's eyes flashed with his well known icey fire.  
  
"Perhaps."  
  
  
  
  


  
  



End file.
